Thursday, October 31, 2013

Pressure, fire, wetness, tongues — single words were all I could think as our mouths battled. God, I’d never been kissed like this before. Ever, and if we stopped, I’d die a happy woman from his lips touching mine alone. He tugged his hand into the back of my hair, pulling my chin upwards, yanking me towards him. I clawed at his shirt, ready to rip it from his massive body. I pulled at his jacket first, lowering it over his shoulders until it fell to the floor. The buttons jingled against the tile, scattering over our feet. Damn, if he didn’t care about his signature black coat falling apart, then I had to wonder what else I could get away with.

And
you thought Emmy’s life was a hot mess before…

Jack’s gone off to Arizona with his brother, but for how
long? Emmy doesn’t have a clue. In his place, though, is Zachary. The whiny,
miserable, alpha wolf–boy who is more than ready to take on the duty of her
mate/boyfriend — if she’d let him, that is. But the last thing Emmy wants is to
deal with a boy who believes that the world should fall solely at his feet
whenever he demands it.

But hey, at least her step–douche is gone, and her life
is back to an almost normal sense, right?

Wrong
again, Emmy’s life will never again be normal…

With her Uncle Prick in town and her best friend acting
as secretive as ever, Emmy finds new challenges to overcome — challenges that
no seventeen–year–old girl should ever have to deal with. For one thing, what
is up with her dream–liaison status anyway? What does it mean, really? And why
does her little brother have to go through it too? And then there’s her mom.
The lady is acting a tad bit odd, to put it nicely. After all these years, she
finally wants to step up and be a parental figure? Heck no! Emmy’s definitely
not copacetic with that idea.

But
with the bad, there’s got to be some good out there for her somewhere, right?

Add in the wolves, witches, drama, and lots of kisses and
you get Emmy the Extraordinaire, the girl with strawberry–colored hair, and a
chip on her shoulder. She’s finally on her way to finding out what her life and
her future both have in store for her, even if the road to getting there is
nowhere near as easy as she hoped it would be. But Emmy is tough, and more than
ready to take on life with her bare hands.

It’s just too bad she’s madly, desperately, insanely in
love with a boy who insists on making her life both a miserable hell and utter
perfection at the same time.

I can say that it totally blew my mind, it made me want to date a guy named Jack, it made me cry a little, it made me sigh, it made me hate Zach a little less. I had the feeling I was reading between the lines between two characters close to Emmy and I was so right! I was hoping that so of the precog stuff that was mentioned wasn't true but...

...it was.

Now with the bearded guy in the picture and relationships going every which way, what will come of our dear Emmy and Jack and the rest of the gang? I can not wait for the next install to this series!

About
the author:

Heather Van Fleet currently reside in northern Illinois,
with her three little ladies, and fabulous hubby, and high school sweetheart,
Chris. She’s a stay at home mom by day, and an avid and completely obsessive
writer and reader by night.

She’s always had a soft spot in her heart for books, and
has been creating her own little stories since the age of seven. But she never
really had the confidence or the time to actually sit down and really do
something about it until her youngest daughter Isabella was born just two years
ago. Bella, as well as her older sisters Kelsey and Emma, are and always will
be her greatest inspirations.

Hope
Richards has only ever known the life of a big city girl. When her boss gives
her an ultimatum, she decided to try out the country life during her forced
vacation. After falling in love with a mysterious old mansion on the edge of a
town that time forgot, Hope finds herself caught up in a whirlwind of someone
else's crazy love obsession, and realizes in the middle of it all how lacking
her own life is in that department. Hope is faced with a decision: return to
the mundane life she thought was her passion, or find a way to experience
something far stronger that she secretly yearns for.

EXCERPT:

“Oh, no he did not!”
Abigail yelled, throwing her hair over her right shoulder to dramatize her
anger. Hope was momentarily blinded by visions of Luci Tristan, the stuck up
prom queen from her high school days. She had to fight to hold in a giggle.

“Relax, hun. He’s obviously got
some pent up anger he needs to release. Let him use you as his verbal target
for now. It’s better than him using your face as his punching bag.” Abigail
stared at Hope in absolute shock.

“I cannot believe you just
suggested that my Garrett has the ability to hit me.” Hope raised both brows at
her younger friend, a bit shocked herself.

“And I cannot believe you’re
backing him after he called you a bitch.” The two stared at each other, stuck
in a battle of estrogen. Finally, they simultaneously burst into laughter, the
air quickly clearing of all bitter anger.

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be so
harsh on him. I just don’t understand what his problem is. He was perfectly
fine until…” Hope nodded knowingly when Abigail refused to finish her thought.

“Until I came along. I know what
you mean, and I don’t understand it either. He acts like he wants to be my
friend, and when I tell him it’s not an option, he throws a kiddie tantrum.”

“You told him that?” Abigail’s
voice was full of true shock and admiration. “Why would you tell him that?”

“Because your friendship is what
matters to me. I have no interest in getting to know him.” Hope inwardly kicked
herself for lying through her teeth. No matter how many times she told herself
the same thing, she knew she was lying. The magnetic pull that Garrett
sustained was addictive. Each time he was around, it grew harder to resist, and
each time he was away, the hollow ache in Hope’s chest grew. She would be
absolutely insane if she didn’t recognize how she truly felt. Not that it
mattered in the least. She could never allow herself to get close to Garrett.

“You are a true friend, Hope.”
Abigail, gave Hope a light hug, beaming with gratitude.

“It’s nothing. He’s just a stupid
little boy. I’m eight years older than both of you. I’d feel like I was robbing
the cradle!” Hope forced herself to laugh alongside her friend, but her stomach
was in knots. For once, her head and her heart were on the same page. For once,
Hope wanted to shoot both to make them stop working at all.

AUTHOR BIO:

Somewhere amidst her forty-hour
job and playtime with her three-year-old, Rachel finds time to walk the streets
of worlds only existing on manmade paper. She resides in small college town
Northwestern Nebraska with her young son, just a few blocks from a city park,
the public schools, and her parents. She enjoys socializing with adults,
sipping strawberry wine, and head banging to music that doesn't carry a beat
worth the effort of rock star hair slinging.

"The paranormal world is a much more desired
realm. There's no limit to possibilities, no comparison to probabilities, no
concept of actualities. There's no solid platform for racism, judgment, or
hierarchy. It is exactly the manifestation you choose it to be, darkness and
death included."

In a heart-racing thriller
described as Falling Skies meets The Walking Dead, Jennie struggles to find a
safe place for what’s left of her family. But it seems as though there is no
place sacred, no place secure. First the aliens attacked the sun, making it
dimmer, weaker, and half what it used to be. Then they attacked the water
supply, killing one-third of Earth’s population with a bitter contaminate. And
when they unleash a new terror on humankind, the victims will wish for death,
but will not find it…When the world shatters to pieces around her, will Jennie
find the strength she needs to keep going?

Advance Praise

“Pauline
Creeden managed to mix more genres into one book than I could possibly imagine.
The overall concept, aliens attacking the earth, is straight out of Science
Fiction, but then you throw in a few zombies and post-apocalyptic fiction with
how the dead/sick humans are acting. Overall, the entire story was charged with
the adrenaline and thrills of a suspense/thriller novel, but the mood was
terrifyingly eerie like a Horror story. There was almost too much sensory
information for my primitive human brain to handle. Still, all of these genres
combined made for one unique and fascinating story. This kind of book is of the
same flavor as The Hunger Games with its originality, which I really
appreciated.” - Katelyn Hensel for Readers' Favorite

“Sanctuary
is a fast-paced Christian fantasy thriller that is original and quite
entertaining. The story revolves around Jennie and her family, Pastor Billy and
his wife, and two brothers who are polar opposites of each other. Each chapter
is presented in the point of view of Jennie, Brad or Hugh (the brothers), which
gives Pauline Creeden's Sanctuary, a multidimensional feel. The three different
story-lines merge into a full-fledged fantasy/horror novel that never sags or
lets up on the action. While there are Christian themes present in Sanctuary,
and Jennie's faith is an important part of who she is, I, a non-Christian, did
not feel I was being preached to or proselytized. I recommend Pauline Creeden's
Sanctuary -- it's well-written and a lot of fun to read.” – Jack Magnus for
Readers Favorite

EXCERPT:

When Jennie reached the back door, she saw them. Four large dog-like
creatures with pinched faces like bulldogs and lion-like manes. They snarled,
and one of them leapt at the window on the top half of the door when it saw
her. Jennie jumped back and fell hard on the cold tile floor. The bottle of
painkiller bounced across the kitchen tiles. The creature slammed against the
window a second time, cracking it. She blinked hard. Her heart sunk, and the
hairs on her arms stood on end. A horrendous gargling howl rent the air,
causing a shiver down her spine. She held her breath and waited for the
creature to slam into the door again.

“What on earth?” she whispered to herself.

When the third attempt never came, she scrambled toward the door.
Blinking hard, she used the door knob to help herself stand. Out the cracked
window, her mother was still out of sight, but the last of the dogs headed
across the field behind her backyard.

“MOM?” Jennie called out.

The rumbling faded, and the vibrations in her chest receded with the
dogs. She pulled open the door and rushed onto their back deck. “Mom, where are
you?”

When she reached the banister, she looked over the side. Her mom lay
sprawled with one hand on the lattice. Blood gushed from Mom’s leg and her
opposite arm. Jennie’s ears rang and flooded with every beat of her heart.

Jennie didn’t know how she got to the second floor of her house, but she
found herself shaking her sleeping father. How had he slept through the
rumbling? “Outside, it’s Mom…”

Her father leapt from the bed. Mickey, her little brother, lay asleep
and undisturbed. Dad ran down the stairs and outside in his flannel pajama
bottoms and white t-shirt. He scooped Mom up to his chest and carried her
inside. Blood stained his shirt in crimson.

“Jennie, call 911!” Her father
had said it at least three times before it finally registered in her brain.

She pulled the cell phone from her pocket, but it refused to connect.
With a groan, she grabbed the cordless from the wall receiver, glad her heart
stopped pounding in her head so she could hear.

“All operators are busy at this time,” a mechanical voice deadpanned,
“Please stay on the line, and the next available operator will take your call.”

“They have me on hold, Dad. Should I hang up and try again?” She held
the phone in both hands away from her face.

“No, just stay on the line.” Her father lifted the shredded jeans from
Mom’s leg. “It looks like a shark bite. What on earth happened?”

Jennie took in the damage through tear-filled eyes. A huge chunk was
taken from her mother’s calf, exposing the fibrous tendons that covered the
bone in her leg. A bloodstain grew on the beige couch. Was she going to die?
Panic rose up.

“What happened, Jennie?”

“I...I...They looked like lions, or dogs, or something. The rumbling
shook the whole house…I tried to go outside to get Mom, but—” A sob blocked her
throat.

Her father grabbed a throw pillow and held it against the leg. Mom’s
exposed forearm laid across her chest in much the same condition as her calf.

“Grab me the duct tape.”

Jennie suddenly remembered the phone, put it back to her ear, and headed
to the hall closet. She reached for the shelf above the jackets and grabbed the
junk basket next to the toolbox.

“Please stay on the line. An operator will be with you shortly.”

She shoved the phone in the crook of her neck and fished through the
box. Half the contents dropped around
her feet. Who cares? When her fingers
wrapped around the silver duct tape, a short-lived relief sent prickles down
her arms. But the urgency gripped her chest in less than a heart beat, and she
threw the junk basket on the ground with the rest of the items.

“Hurry, Jennie!” her father called from the living room. “And turn on
the TV. Maybe they’ll have something about what’s going on.”

She handed her father the tape and turned toward the TV. The mechanical
voice on the phone came through again, followed by more easy listening.

When she clicked on the TV, the shouting and wailing began before the
picture warmed up on the screen. A sideways picture of New York City broke
through, with the shaky voice of the newscaster voicing over.

“What we are watching now – I can’t believe it – is live footage of
Times Square,” the newscaster’s voice paused for a deep breath. “We’ve lost our
man on the scene and his camera man to what appears to be some kind of new
alien creature. Just a short half-hour ago, the doors to the ship that hovered
above Central Park opened and these dog-like creatures flooded out.”

Jennie couldn’t pull
her eyes from the screen. She straightened and dropped the phone on the
hardwood. The battery popped out and skidded across the floor.

In simple language, Pauline Creeden creates worlds that are
both familiar and strange, often pulling the veil between dimensions. She
becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she
will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long.

Pauline is a horse trainer from Virginia, but writing is her
therapy.

Armored Hearts, her joint effort with author Melissa Turner
Lee, has been a #1 Bestseller in Christian Fantasy and been awarded the Crowned
Heart for Excellence by InDtale Magazine. Her debut novel, Sanctuary is
scheduled for release September 30, 2013, and has already been nominated for
two awards in YA Science Fiction.

One of Pauline's short stories has won the CCW Short Story
contest. Other short stories have been published in Fear & Trembling
Magazine, Obsidian River and Avenir Eclectia. An urban fantasy short will
appear in The Book of Sylvari: An Anthology of Elves from Port Yonder Press,
and a vampire short will appear in Monsters! from Diminished Media Group.

Why on earth did I write a Christian novel that has both
aliens and zombies in it?

When I was a teen/young adult and my faith was wavering at
best, there were several movies out with the likely design to shake faith even
more. End of the world movies were in their hay day. Alien invasion was another
big one. And I couldn’t help but wonder. If something like this actually
happened, would anyone be able to maintain their faith?

And now today, Zombies are on the rise.

Could aliens be reconciled with the Bible? Zombies? This is
the purpose of Sanctuary.

Because of its poetic nature, the book of Revelation lends
itself to a plethora of interpretation. I am not saying that my book is the
only true possibility, but it could be one. Could not demons be misinterpreted
as alien life forms? Might not Satan use this mirage to his advantage to
explain the bitter water or the blotting out of the sun, moon, and stars? And then there’s Revelation 9:6 - "And
in those days shall men seek death, and shall not find it; and shall desire to
die, and death shall flee from them."

Zombies?

If anyone reading this book at least opens themselves up to
the fact that yes, a biblical interpretation could resolve the problems between
faith and an apocalyptic reality, then Sanctuary has completed its purpose.

Morning’s Journey

The greatest threat to Arthur & Gyan and their world is the enemy within.

In a violent age when enemies besiege Brydein and alliances shift as swiftly as the wind, stand two remarkable leaders: the Caledonian warrior-queen Gyanhumara and her consort, Arthur the Pendragon. Their fiery love is tempered only by their conviction to forge unity between their disparate peoples. Arthur and Gyan must create an impenetrable front to protect Brydein and Caledonia from land-lusting Saxons and the marauding Angli raiders who may be massing forces in the east, near Arthur’s sister and those he has sworn to protect.
But their biggest threat is an enemy within: Urien, Arthur’s rival and the man Gyan was treaty-bound to marry until she broke that promise for Arthur’s love. When Urien becomes chieftain of his clan, his increase in wealth and power is matched only by the magnitude of his hatred of Arthur and Gyan—and his threat to their infant son.
Morning’s Journey propels the reader from the heights of triumph to the depths of despair, through the struggles of some of the most fascinating characters in all of Arthurian literature. Those struggles are exacerbated by the characters’ own flawed choices. Gyan and Arthur must learn that while extending forgiveness to others may be difficult, forgiveness of self is the most excruciating—yet ultimately the most healing—step of the entire journey.

About the Author

Kim Headlee lives on a farm in southwestern Virginia with her family, cats, goats, and assorted wildlife. People & creatures come and go, but the cave and the 250-year-old house ruins -- the latter having been occupied as recently as the mid-20th century -- seem to be sticking around for a while yet.
Kim is a Seattle native (when she used to live in the Metro DC area, she loved telling people she was from "the other Washington") and a direct descendent of 20th century Russian nobility. Her grandmother was a childhood friend of the doomed Grand Duchess Anastasia, and the romantic yet tragic story of how Lydia escaped Communist Russia with the aid of her American husband will most certainly one day fuel one of Kim's novels. Another novel in the queue will involve her husband's ancestor, the 7th-century proto-Viking king of the Swedish colony in Russia.
For the time being, however, Kim has plenty of work to do in creating her projected 8-book Arthurian series, The Dragon's Dove Chronicles. She also writes other romantic historical fiction under the pseudonym "Kimberly Iverson."

Sunday, October 27, 2013

"Mom always says the angels walk among us. She forgot to tell me that sometimes they're not all fluffy and nice."

Seventeen-year-old Caleb Wood has seen people he calls the walkers since he was a baby. It didn't take long for him to realize something…no one can see these strangers but him. They never stuck around or tried to touch him. And they never said a word. That was until one day on the first day of class in his senior year when an incredibly gorgeous girl strolls into his life…and things are never the same again.

Soon Caleb realizes he has stepped into the middle of a growing conflict between two ancient groups. And his ability to see the invisible ones, the half-breeds that want to modify the human race, just might be the only hope both he and the mysterious, but infuriating, Gia, have of making it out alive.

I live in the City of Alchemy and Medicine, North Carolina. I write about people doing fantastical things in magical worlds. Sometimes they fall for each other and make sacrifices for their friends. Oh, and sometimes they love music and nature too. I live with my two sons,a guinea pig, a cat, and two dogs. Now that I have completed my MFA in creative writing, I find that I have a little extra time to play CLUE more often. I live in an L-shaped house dedicated to my grandmother. It has a secret library complete with fairies, venetian plastered walls, and a desk made out of clear blue glass.

A popular teen is bitten by a vampire during a steamy night of making out with her boyfriend. After the bite, she wakes up in a cruel orphanage in Vampire World, with no memory of her past. She’s left with very little; only fangs, pale skin and a keen desire for blood.

Marissa, who’s named Janice in Vampire World, escapes the ghastly orphanage thanks to Mr. John FreeCut, an old, benevolent vampire who adopts Janice because he wants to foster children he could never have. He says her parents died in a crash. Beautiful, innocent and thrust into an enigmatic world she has no memory of, Janice must face many challenges. The grueling blood hostess job. The multiple stalkers and creepers who are hungry for her and her blood. The dizzying fireball competition. And most challenging, the fact that she doesn’t look or act like a vampire.

Janice is emotionally overwhelmed. Thankfully she makes some friends, including Brett BloodCut. Brett and Janice are immersed in a passionate romance, and Brett helps Janice adjust to her new world by giving her the love, confidence and knowledge she needs to survive as a vampire. Janice finds a way to succeed in such a problematic world. Things go well for Janice, though not for long. A stranger knows the truth about her past.

Slowly but surely Janice discovers the truth that she is being lied to by the ones she loves. She must learn the secret behind TriFang, and ultimately accept the stinging reality that things are not always what they seem. Could the truth ever be so bloody?

Excerpt:

4: 30 P.M

Driving around in my father’s silver Camaro on the way home from school, I pull into a Seven Eleven. Inside, I grab a Twinkie and the latest edition of Cosmo. While I wait in the checkout line, behind me a stinky old man with a jungle-like beard is staring right at my chest. Gosh, he’s a creeper. I make my way to the cashier as I can still smell his reeking breath.

Outside, I read the headlines of a newspaper in a rusty dispenser: “12 missing in two weeks: Centerville on Alert.”

I don’t get the chance to care much about the news. But this is disturbing. Suddenly a shadow overtakes me. Turning around, I go eye to eye with the creepy man in the line.

“You better stay home tonight sweetheart,” he says. “Stay home if you want to live.”

I back up a few steps.

“Who are you?” I yell. “Get away from me!”

I jump into the car and start the engine. And I don’t look back.

My Review:

Vampire World kept me interested from it's unit of time to it crazy hair-dos. Waking up in a strange world where you are told you have always lived but not remember anything about it would be scary for anyone. I did get confused at times with all of the names and foods in Vampire World. The ideas were good but at times seemed to jump. That is how I feel about it. Other than that, I really enjoyed the concept of living in a world full of vampires with glow in the dark tattoos and piercings.

I am from New Orleans, Lousiana and I write young adult novels, fantasy and science fiction.

My new novel, Vampire World, is now available. If you enjoy reading paranormal YA fiction, please check this out now.

The Magical Tale of Eliza Felding, Book 1 of a trilogy, takes place in New Orleans one year after Hurricane Katrina. It involves teens, romance and tons of magic.

The Secret of the Dogs is a children's book about four very different dogs (a Basenji, a Greyhound, a Pomeranian and an Airdale Terrier) who go on a quest to rescue a young boy that is being abused by his father.

Friday, October 25, 2013

“Newcomer Jill Elaine Hughes raises a fresh new voice in the
zombie genre with a story filled with plenty of action, well-rounded characters
and lots of shocks. Fun, fast-paced and highly entertaining. ZOMBIE, INCORPORATED
rocks!” --Jonathan Maberry, New York Times bestselling author of FIRE & ASH
and CODE ZERO

Twilight. With zombies.

Eighteen-year-old Katie Allred is socially awkward and unpopular at school. The
only child of parents who had her right out of high school, Katie is herself
about to leave the nest, even though she hardly feels ready.

Katie’s new after-school job at the Zimble Box Corporation draws her into the
complex social strata of high school cliques and backstabbing friends in ways
she never imagined. Katie soon discovers there’s something very strange about
the “in” crowd at school---and about her employer, too. Shortly after starting
her new job, the Contagion breaks out, plunging her town and the entire nation
into chaos as zombie shadow forces come out into the open, ravaging the
streets. Katie goes into hiding and her parents disappear, along with almost
everyone else she knows.

But Katie soon discovers she has special powers that help her survive. She’s a
Beacon, someone with the innate ability to help zombies produce children. It’s
a power her employer — and what little remains of the U.S. government — both
want to exploit for their own ends. Not only that, it runs in her
family---which has a secret past Katie never knew about until now.

Enter Agent Morehouse of the FBI Special Zombie Control Unit. A reformed zombie
working undercover, he suppresses his urge to eat human flesh in order to serve
and save humanity. But Agent Morehouse can’t help but be attracted to a Beacon
like Katie, and she to him. Even as they fight zombies the world over, they
must fight their intense attraction to each other, hoping to keep Katie from
suffering Agent Morehouse’s terrible zombie fate.

Excerpt

I guess if I really thought hard about it, Mom was
right. The zombie apocalypse was my fault. Everything
was my fault. I’d ruined her life, and
now she wanted me out of it. All the mean underhanded comments over the years,
all the passive-aggressive decisions to spend money on herself instead of me,
their decision not to plan for my future, all the not-so-subtle hints to get
the hell out of her house and become somebody else’s problem----it all made
perfect sense now.

I
could take a hint. I knew where I wasn’t
wanted. And somehow I figured I’d have a
better chance of surviving the coming onslaught of the Undead if I was on my
own. Conventional wisdom says there’s
safety in numbers, but I’d watched enough horror movies to know that sometimes
it’s best to fly solo.

I
went to the bookcase and dragged over a milk crate to stand on so I could reach
the top shelf. I reached behind the main part of the bookcase to the secret
compartment I knew was behind it, the same secret compartment where I’d hidden
candy and comic books as part of a treasure hunt game I’d used to play alone as
a little girl. My fingertips felt around
until they touched the smooth, cold gunmetal.
I wrapped my fingers around the pistol, pulled it out, inspected
it. It was a lot heavier than I’d expected,
yet it still seemed small, too small to be something that could explode and
kill someone----or something----in
less than a second. The lines of Dad’s semiautomatic Glock were sleek, almost
animal-like in their curvature. I didn’t know what I was doing, but on sheer
instinct my finger pressed a tiny switch on the spine of the weapon and the
chamber popped open, revealing a bullet.
I popped the chamber closed, pressed another switch and the clip fell
out into my hand. I inspected that,
studied it, worked out in my head how its various components connected with
various components inside the gun which, when the trigger was pulled, would
result in a projectile issuing forth, then with a flick of my wrist pushed the
clip back inside its slot, heard it click.

I
knew next to nothing about guns or weaponry or ballistics, other than that I
knew my father stored guns in the basement and I had always been forbidden to
touch them. But despite that lifetime of ignorance it seemed as if merely
holding the weapon in my hand transferred all the knowledge I needed about how
or why to use it directly to my brain.
As if I had a natural (maybe even a supernatural) talent for it, or a gift as my grandmother would have said.
I could see all the moving parts in my mind’s eye as if they’d been there all
along.

I
reached back into the secret compartment and felt around again until my
fingertips touched dusty cardboard. I
grabbed and pulled and came out with a heavy box of magazine clips. Three magazines, sixteen shells to a clip. I
couldn’t do the arithmetic in my head, but I knew it was a lot of bullets. A lot, but probably not enough. I reached and grabbed and pulled once again,
and retrieved two more boxes of magazines.
Lots and lots of bullets now. I
hoped I’d never have to use them, but just to hold them in my hand felt like a
good life insurance policy.

I
stood and turned my newfound possessions over and over in my hands, studying
the switches and gears, memorizing where the safety was and mentally practicing
how to disengage and re-engage it. I read the instructions and warnings on the
sides of the magazine boxes, noted how they said that semiautomatic-loading
weapons were illegal in many states, and the manufacturer had no liability for
any physical or legal consequences for any injury or death resulting from
improper (or proper? Since guns were
for shooting, after all) use of its commercial products. I knew I was holding
deadly force within the palm of my hands, and knew that should have scared me
at least a little bit.

But
it didn’t. It did the opposite.

Mom
watched me do all of this without comment.
I made a point not to meet her eyes for a while, instead keeping my gaze
on the gun and the shell magazines. The basement air thickened between us. The
ticking sound of the air conditioner as the blower switched on automatically on
the other side of the wall seemed way too loud.
We both waited for the other to speak, or at least meet a gaze. But
neither of us did, and for far too long a time.

Finally,
Mom broke the silence. “It’s been way more than ten minutes, and your father
isn’t back yet. What do you want to do?”

“I
don’t know.”

“I
think you should go up there after him, Katie. Take the gun with you.”

I
forced myself to meet Mom’s eyes. I saw
a lifetime of disappointment behind her tinted glasses and blue-black mascara.

“You’re
in a real hurry to get rid of me, aren’t you Mom?” I asked. My tone was cold,
deadpan. I was through with all the
bullshit. I just wanted my mom to tell
the truth about me for once.

“I
don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Admit
it. You’ve been trying to get rid of me for years. Makes me wonder why you didn’t just get rid
of me before I was born and saved yourself the trouble.”

All
the color drained from Mom’s face. “How dare you speak like that to me!”

“How
dare you say straight to my face that
you didn’t want me, that you never wanted me, and that I basically ruined your
and Dad’s lives!” I shrieked. “Because that’s basically what you just said.”

Mom
took off her glasses, pressed her palms flat against her eye sockets and choked
down a sob. “Katie, you’re reading way
too much into this. Your father and
I----we made a lot of sacrifices for you.
Most people who became parents as young as we did would never have done
even a tenth of what we’ve done for you.
You should be grateful. And I
think it’s high time your father and I had some time to ourselves now that we
gave up so much to raise you. Except----“

“Except
now you can’t. Because of the stupid zombies.
Which I suppose are all my fault too, just like everything else is.”

Mom
slumped down onto a stack of milk crates. “I never said that.”

“You
didn’t have to.”

We
stared each other down for a minute or two, Mom always keeping a nervous eye on
the gun. For a split second I actually
considered shooting her with it, but dismissed the idea as insane. Plenty of teens my age think they hate their
mothers, but they really don’t. It’s just a phase all young women go
through. The more I thought about it
though, I didn’t hate my mother. I
honestly didn’t feel anything for her. I
was as indifferent to her now as I was to a lump of coal. And that was far worse that hate. After all, in order to hate someone, you have
to love them first. I wasn’t sure I ever
loved Mom, and in that moment I doubted my mom ever loved me either. Sending me off to face the zombies and my
almost-certain death just proved my theory.

“So
now you want me to save you from the zombies at the risk of my own life, huh?”
I said, fingering the barrel of the gun in my hand. “Sort of kills two birds
with one stone, doesn’t it?”

Mom’s face crumpled in horror. “I want you to go find your father!”

“Find
him yourself.”

I
turned on my heel and dashed up the creaky stairs, skipping the rotten ones at
the bottom. I was still missing one
shoe.

I
headed up to my room and packed a knapsack with one hand. Clothes, shoes, and
random toiletries landed in the bag at random as I kept the gun, cocked and
ready to fire, out at an angle and sweeping the air, ready for whoever and
whatever might appear.